


Unknown Pleasures

by birdsofshore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Humor, Light BDSM, M/M, Mild Kink, Room of Requirement, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsofshore/pseuds/birdsofshore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Room of Requirement was definitely broken. Why else would it be presenting Harry with a whip, some handcuffs, a blindfold, and a... what exactly <i>was</i> that thing, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unknown Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to [Omi_Ohmy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Omi_Ohmy/pseuds/Omi_Ohmy) for the beta, and especially for her patience in trying to gently rid me of my most appalling habits. Thank you also to [MariannaMerlo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MariannaMerlo) for feedback and encouragement.
> 
> This was written for the [hd_cliche](http://hd-cliche.livejournal.com/) fest on LJ. I was really happy when I realised it was going to post on Harry's birthday! Personally, I think every young Saviour should be given a room full of kinky objects and a curious Draco Malfoy as their birthday present.

The Room of Requirement was definitely broken. Why else would it be presenting Harry with a whip, some handcuffs, a blindfold, and a... what exactly _was_ that thing, anyway?

“What the fuck am I doing here, Potter?”

Harry spun around. Draco Malfoy was standing by the door, looking like Harry had pissed in his favourite shoes.

“What? I don't know what you're doing here, Malfoy. Presumably you wanted something. The Room's broken anyway, so you can bugger off again.”

“Broken?” Malfoy looked around. “It looks all right to me – what _are_ all those things on the wall? Is this what you came in here for, Potter? It looks like the stockroom of Floggit and Tease's.”

Harry looked blank as Malfoy walked towards the wall to peer at the items. They were displayed on hooks, suspended by neat red ribbons. “You know,” Malfoy continued, “the _special_ shop in Knockturn Alley. With all the leather and so on in the window.” Harry's eyebrows were heading towards his fringe. Malfoy coughed. “Well. So I've heard, anyway. But there's no need to look at me like that! You're the one who's in the Room of Requirement with a load of pervy stuff and a hopeful expression.”

“Pervy stuff?” Harry stared, shifting from foot to foot. “Is that what this is? I never asked for...” he waved his hand at the wall, “...all this.”

“What did you ask for, then?”

“None of your business!” Harry frowned. This time it was Malfoy's turn to raise an eyebrow. “All right, bloody hell, I just wanted somewhere I could be by myself for a bit. This afternoon's been seriously annoying, if you want to know, and I thought no-one would look for me in here. I _hoped_.” Harry glared meaningfully as he spoke.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I wasn't looking for you, I can assure you. I was heading towards the library, minding my own business, when I found myself walking up here on the seventh floor instead, with the most peculiar sensation of being pulled towards the Room.”

He ran his finger along a large, black ostrich feather which hung from one of the hooks. It fluttered beneath his touch, and he took it in his hand. “Not to put too fine a point on it, Potter, I think I've been Required. Now the question is, _who_ has Required me, and... ” he dragged the feather slowly across his cheek, letting the ends of it flicker softly down to his chin, “...what on earth do they expect to do with all this kinky-fuckery?”

Harry was feeling rather hot under his robes. He hadn't yet worked out how, but he felt sure this whole thing was Malfoy's fault. “I don't know, and I don't care. I just asked the Room to give me somewhere I could go to relax, and when I came in, it was like this. Then you came in. And I'm not feeling very relaxed. I think I'll go, now.” He looked at the door, but made no move to leave.

Malfoy reached up and took down a length of wood, with a slim handle. “To relax? Was that what you asked it for?” A smirk was hovering around his lips.

“Yes. Somewhere I could relax. I told you, I was feeling wound up. What is that thing, Malfoy?”

Malfoy's mouth stretched into an indecently wide smile. “I think it's a paddle. And the Room of Requirement seems to have decided that it – and all this other stuff – is apparently what you need for relaxation.”

“There's no way that's a paddle, you idiot.” Harry shook his head. “What kind of boat would need one that small? A canoe for house-elves, maybe?”

Malfoy's eyes opened wide, and then he let out an unexpected stream of laughter. “It's not a paddle for a boat! Merlin, you Gryffindors are such delicious innocents.”

Harry's neck prickled. “What, then? What is it for? I don't hang out at that Faggots' Tease place, or whatever it's called, so forgive me for not being familiar with what perverts get up to.”

Draco sneered. “I don't hang out there. I just happen not to be a totally clueless virgin. It's a paddle for _spanking_.” He let the wood slap against his hand with a reverberating sound. “You do know what spanking is, don't you, Potter?”

Harry's palms were sweating. Draco was so annoying, and this whole thing was just too embarrassing. He was going to turn round and walk right out of there, just as soon as― “How does that work, then? Doesn't it hurt?” The words blurted out before he could stop them.

“Yes, it hurts.” Draco bent the wood gently between his fingers, testing the flexibility. “But since you do it to punish someone who's been very, very bad, it hardly matters, does it?”

Harry swallowed. “Someone like you, you mean?” He didn't know why he was saying these things. He didn't know why he wasn't just leaving, right this minute

Draco's eyes widened again, and he looked quickly from the paddle, to Harry, then back again. He dropped his head and muttered. “ _Woonackshlymine_.” His pale cheeks were flushing, just a little.

“What did you say?” Harry was starting to feel light-headed.

Malfoy looked up at him through his pale lashes. “I said, I wouldn't actually mind.”

“You wouldn't?” This was ridiculous. What did he care what fucked-up things Malfoy was into?

“No.” Malfoy's fists were clenched at his sides.

“But why would you want...?”

Malfoy was avoiding Harry's eyes. “I'd like to know... it's meant to feel good.”

Harry's forehead creased. “How?”

Malfoy shrugged. “I don't know. Anyway, you're obviously not interested, so...” He made as if to hang it back up again.

“Wait.” Harry's voice cracked slightly.

Malfoy froze, with the paddle raised in his hand.

Harry cleared his throat. “Maybe I am interested.” His head was buzzing with a strange lightness. He took a step towards Malfoy, who was looking ever so faintly as though he were trying to conceal a smile.

“I think I might... I might find that _very_ relaxing.” Images were rushing into Harry's mind and he laughed. “Bending you over my knee and slapping your arse with a bit of wood? Yeah, I could go for that.”

For a second Malfoy looked nervous and a bit wild-eyed. He stared at the paddle in his hand. “It's not meant to be used as a weapon, Potter... listen, perhaps this requires someone with a bit more subtlety. I've no desire to get bludgeoned.” He shook his head firmly.

Harry's eyebrows drew together. “You said...”

Malfoy waved his hand dismissively. “I can see you wouldn't know where to start with this stash of goodies, Potter. In fact it's wasted on you. Why don't you leave, and let someone who actually knows his way around the bedroom have a chance at finding it.”

“I'm perfectly―” Harry realised his voice was squeaking. He took a deep breath. “I know what I'm doing, thanks. I could totally show you a few things, don't worry about that.”

Malfoy raised his chin. “You think so?” His eyes glittered a challenge.

“I know so. Now are we going to do this, or not?” Harry looked around. “We need somewhere for you to―”

A hanging he hadn't noticed before fluttered, as if in a light breeze. Which was odd, because there was no draught in the room... but in any case, behind the hanging, Harry could see a long, elegant sofa.

“Here.” He pulled Malfoy's arm. “Come on, if you're not too scared.”

“Me, scared? I don't think so,” Malfoy answered with a sneer, but his Adam's apple bobbed heavily as he followed Harry behind the curtain.

Harry sat down on the sofa, which proved pleasantly firm and springy. “Give me that thing.”

Malfoy hesitated. “Maybe this isn't... maybe _you_ should go first.”

“Me? I'm not the one who fancies my arse being walloped, Malfoy.” Harry reached over to grab the paddle and a strange boldness infused him as he felt the firm heft of the wood in his hand. “Now are you going to get over here, or do I have to make you?”

Malfoy stepped nearer the sofa till he was standing directly in front of Harry. He looked down at the floor rather than at Harry's face. Harry felt an unexpected rush of power. When he spoke, his voice was steady, and deeper than usual.

“Now, get over my knee.”

Unbelievably, Malfoy did so, bending over to lay across Harry's lap with his bum sticking out. Harry wanted to laugh, both at the strangeness of the situation and at the addictive thrill curling in his stomach. His heart seemed to be going double time. Malfoy was perched a little awkwardly, and wobbled as Harry shifted in his seat. The instruction came without Harry thinking about it. “Hands on the floor.”

Malfoy leaned forwards, pushing his arse higher, and making his pose much more steady. Harry felt a wave of incredulity. He said things... and Malfoy did them. Malfoy's robes were pushed to one side, with his uniform trousers tight around his backside, and his body was solid and strong against Harry's legs.

Something from a magazine Seamus had once showed Harry popped into his head. He frowned, feeling a bit uncertain again. “I'm pretty sure it's meant to be on the bare bum, Malfoy.”

There was a pause. Harry could hear Malfoy breathing shakily. “I think this is quite sufficient for now.” Malfoy sounded almost prim and again Harry had to suppress a laugh. “Well? Are you going to begin?” Malfoy asked.

He looked down at Malfoy's rather nicely rounded bottom, which did make a surprisingly appealing target when bent over like this, drew his arm back and tentatively tapped the paddle against it.

“Is that _it_?” Malfoy couldn't have sounded less impressed.

Harry's arm shot back and he fired a hard blow right at the plumpest point of Malfoy's arse. The resounding 'thwack' shocked him slightly, and was followed by a squeal of outrage.

“You fucker, Potter! You're not meant to go that hard! I've got delicate skin. _Fuck_ , that stings.” Malfoy had reared up and was reaching behind to rub his own arse.

Harry felt a bit guilty... but mostly disappointed, if he was honest. He had hoped... well, never mind. This was all a bit weird for him anyway. He watched in confusion as Malfoy put his hands back down on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, carry on, Potter. We might as well give it a proper try now we've started. Just go slower. Look, why don't you put that thing down and start off with your hand until I'm warmed up a bit.”

Harry boggled at this, but Malfoy was looking round expectantly. When Harry hesitated, he made the most infuriating sneery face. As if in a dream, Harry watched his own hand reach slowly back and then come down smartly on the swell of Malfoy's backside. It landed with a satisfying smack and Malfoy let out a small pleased sound.

“Is it... do you like that?” Harry asked in astonishment.

“Possibly.” Malfoy tone was nonchalant, but he sounded a bit breathless. “I'm not sure yet. Keep going.”

Harry drew back his hand again, this time watching what he could see of Malfoy's face. Malfoy's hair was flopping over his cheeks, but Harry could see him close his eyes and bite his lip as he waited for Harry to spank him again. Harry had to concentrate, to make sure he didn't miss, or do something else really embarrassing, but as soon as he had thwapped his hand down on Malfoy's rear, his eyes darted back to Malfoy's face, which was turning pink and wore the most extraordinary expression. He looked as if Harry had done something wonderful. His eyes were shut and his lips were curved and pouting. Heat radiated through Harry's body, just watching Malfoy's face looking so soft and happy.

He slapped Malfoy's bum again. And again. And again. He was getting into a bit of a rhythm. Malfoy moaned softly and wriggled in Harry's lap.

“You do like it!” Harry said, amazed at all of it.

“It's all right.” Malfoy said, gulping in breaths. “You can carry on... only if you want to. I don't care either way.”

Malfoy's wriggling had made him slip backwards a bit. Harry moved him to a better position in his lap, and brought his left hand across to rest firmly in the small of Malfoy's back, keeping him still

“I'm going to use the paddle now.” Again Harry wondered at how confident he sounded. Malfoy just nodded and made a small sound in his throat.

Harry held the paddle carefully, considering its weight. This time, he wanted to get it right – the swing up seemed to be in slow motion – but when he brought it down on Malfoy's arse, he knew that he had. It just felt satisfying, a nice clean strike, and Malfoy groaned and shuddered up against the blow, pressing his arse towards the paddle rather than trying to get away from it.

Harry was tingling all over. He let the paddle come down again. Malfoy's body was hot and firm in his lap, and he was starting to really enjoy... whatever this was. He adjusted Malfoy's position again, and wondered if Malfoy could feel his erection. The erection that was twitching with enthusiasm as Malfoy opened his mouth in a slow moan of what sounded like extreme enjoyment.

“Do you want another?”

“Fuck, yes.” Malfoy whined and pushed his arse backwards. Harry gave it another slap. This was insane. And insanely hot. He was slightly appalled at how much he liked doing this... but only slightly. He shifted uncomfortably, his erection pressing against the seam of his trousers hard enough to make his eyes water. Malfoy turned round to look at him; his face was all sweaty and his hair mussed-looking, while his lips were swollen from being bitten.

A wave of light-headedness left Harry reeling. He wasn't sure he could handle this any more: Malfoy draped all over him, looking like that... it made him want to... _bloody hell_. He felt an urgent need to say something – anything at all. Words spilled out of his mouth: “I never would have thought you would be so into pain, Malfoy. I thought you'd be more likely to get off on torturing people, to be honest.”

Malfoy's face screwed up and he turned away from Harry abruptly. Harry could feel Malfoy's body stiffen, where it had been so pliant and relaxed a few seconds before.

“Sorry, Malfoy. Er...”

Malfoy pushed himself off Harry's lap and twitched his robes back into place. His face was closed and blank. “I've had enough of torture to last a lifetime, Potter, but thanks for bringing the subject up.”

“I didn't mean―”

“This was fun, Potter, thanks for the laugh. See you around.” He stalked through the hanging fabric and a moment later Harry heard the door slam. His lap felt cold and empty. The paddle dropped unnoticed from his hand as he muttered curses to himself.

***

In bed that night Harry's mind kept returning again and again to what had happened with Malfoy in the Room. He was extremely unsettled by it all. He could shrug off what they did together as two bored boys just mucking around; what had Malfoy called it? A bit of fun. But Malfoy's face at the end, that wasn't so easy to laugh away. Malfoy had looked properly hurt – betrayed, almost. As if something he had dearly wanted had been taken away from him.

Harry cursed himself again, and felt a bitter mixture of guilt and shame when he stroked himself under the bedclothes to the memory of Malfoy's mouth curving softly into a smile.

***

The next morning Harry was heading out to the castle grounds, thinking he would have a nice fast fly to work off some of the excess energy building up inside him, making his skin prickle the way it did when a thunderstorm was brewing. It would feel good to be outside, even though it was starting to rain. He was taking the steps two at a time, when suddenly, on what seemed like a complete whim, he turned and ran back up three flights. Slightly out of breath, he stood facing the Room of Requirement's door, which swung invitingly ajar, and his feet seemed to step in almost of their own accord.

Inside, everything looked very much like it had yesterday. The hooks, the ribbons, the... stuff. Harry swallowed as he spied the paddle hanging innocently against the wall, flanked by a riding crop and a... Godric, what _was_ that? Or _that_? Everything he looked at simultaneously mocked his naivety and presented him with images of a dishevelled Malfoy enjoying the hell out of whatever-in-Merlin's-name-it-was.

Despite the fascinating array displayed on the wall, the room appeared unoccupied. Harry felt a strange pang of disappointment, then froze at a sound from the other side of the hanging curtain. He tentatively pushed past the fabric to see Malfoy lying on the sofa with his legs stretched out and a broad smirk decorating his face. Harry's heart made a great leap in his chest as Malfoy spoke. “I knew you wouldn't be able to keep away, Potter. I had an idea I'd come and see what the Room had in store for us today.”

Harry frowned. “Malfoy... I'm sorry about yesterday. I mean, I'm sorry for what I said. At the end.”

Malfoy waved his hand airily. “Yes, yes, I'm sure you're heartbroken that you didn't get to carry on molesting me. Your loss, Potter.”

Harry stared in surprise. Before he could speak, Malfoy went on: “Anyway, I think it's my turn to have a go now, don't you?”

Harry threw up a hand in protest. “I've got no curiosity to feel what it's like to have you smack my arse, thanks, Malfoy.”

This was not _entirely_ true. Harry had spent a reasonable amount of time wondering what on earth it was about the experience that had made Malfoy turn that delightful shade of pink. However he had decided that whatever it felt like, it couldn't be as fabulous as being the person who got to hold Malfoy down and do it to him.

Malfoy smiled slyly. “Nooo... but there are lots of _other_ things to try, out there.” He gestured to the well-equipped wall beyond the hanging fabric.

Harry wet his lips nervously. He didn't actually know what half of the things out there were for. He'd heard things about... what some people did. He never thought that he was going to be one of those people. He hadn't really had a chance to do anything much, even straightforward stuff, and yesterday he'd got a massive hard-on from slapping Malfoy's arse, and now he was maybe going to have some other unspecified kinky thing done to him in return. He didn't know whether this was the best or the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

“Are you too chicken, Potter?” Malfoy narrowed his eyes. “You can always just go back to whatever you were doing before you came in here.”

Harry pictured the drizzly scene outside and a muddy walk down to the Quidditch pitch. He swallowed. “No. It's OK. What shall I get?”

Malfoy looked like the Kneazle that got the cream as he stood up and shrugged his robes onto the floor in an elegant heap. “Oh, I don't know. Anything that strikes you as being amusing.” He sat down with a small wince and blushed when he saw Harry watching. “Go on. What are you waiting for?”

Harry moved with care, pulling his robes around the tent in his trousers that had certainly not been there when he walked in. Something about the thought of Malfoy's bum being tender, perhaps still stinging, from what he had done to it yesterday... his mouth was dry as he pushed aside the hanging curtain. When he was sure Malfoy couldn't see, he pressed one hand against his erection in an attempt to quell it, while he gazed at all the objects on the wall. There seemed to be more of them than yesterday, and some of them looked an awful lot more menacing than they had done before he knew they were going to be used.

He let his eye run across the selection. The feather caught his eye and he remembered it trailing along Malfoy's skin on the previous day. How bad could that be? But if he picked something innocuous, Malfoy was bound to scoff and make sarcastic remarks. Hmm. His eye wandered unwillingly to the row of distinctively-shaped items made from various materials. Solid-looking, and of different lengths and thicknesses, they were all undeniably cock-shaped. Harry felt a thrilling shiver in his belly. He definitely wouldn't be choosing those, he told himself.

Malfoy made an enquiring sound from the other room; Harry was determined not to give him any more opportunities to question his nerve. On the far right there was a length of shimmering green silk coiled around one of the hooks. Harry fingered it curiously and found he liked the slippery sensation of it sliding over his skin. He unlooped it from the wall and tossed it over one arm, then, on impulse, grabbed the oversized black feather and another thing which looked like a mask without any eyeholes, and ducked under the hangings to where Malfoy was lounging on the sofa. He appeared annoyingly composed, but there was a little of the charming pinkness around his neck again.

“What have you got for us, Potter?”

Harry held out the objects for Malfoy's inspection. “I don't know what they're for...” It seemed important to point this out. “I just grabbed the first things I saw.”

Malfoy leaned forward and ran an appraising hand along the length of silk. “Interesting...” he said. “And what's that? A blindfold? A bit on the tame side, Potter, but these have definite possibilities.”

Harry put the things down on the sofa, not sure what to do next. Malfoy stood suddenly and grabbed Harry's wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong and Harry found his arm twisted firmly behind his back while he was still considering whether to fight back or not. Malfoy took the silk between his teeth before pinning Harry's other hand, this time moving more slowly, and holding Harry's gaze as if to see his reaction.

“Just to let you know, Malfoy, I can still do magic with my hands tied.” Harry's arms were tensed and ready, and a shiver of adrenalin pulsed through him.

Malfoy stepped in closer and held Harry's wrists with one hand, while winding the silk around them with the other. Harry could feel his breath, velvety against his cheek, as he leant in to secure the knot.

“Of course you can. This is just for entertainment.”

There was a whisper of magic and the feather flew into Malfoy's hand. He brushed the soft, tickling fronds of it along Harry's throat. “To be really effective, this needs access to rather more skin than I can currently see, wouldn't you say?”

“If you think I'm getting naked, you've got to be kidding.”

“Of course not.” Malfoy was indignant. “Why on earth would I want to see your sweaty bollocks? But I can't do very much with _this_...” he gestured with the feather as he spoke, “unless you at least get your shirt off.”

Harry thought about it. For about a fraction of a second. “I will if you will.”

Malfoy smirked. “OK.” He undid his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Harry swallowed as pale skin, neat nipples and a flat, hairless stomach gradually came into view. He realised, too late, that without his robes, he would have no concealment for anything that was going on in his trousers.

Malfoy threw his shirt onto the sofa and stood naked to the waist. Harry's eyes skimmed up and down his torso. _Merlin_. Malfoy was... well, he was lean and fit and _gorgeous_ , standing there all bold like that, no doubt about it. Shame about the annoying smirk at the top.

“Now you.”

Harry shrugged to show that his hands were no use to him at the moment. Malfoy gestured with his wand. “May I?”

Harry nodded, and with a flick, his robes and shirt were gone, Banished to a pile in the corner. He gasped at the sensation of the air on his bare skin, and his shoulders stiffened. Malfoy was chewing his cheek and sliding sideways glances at Harry. He looked a little unsure of himself, then the feather was back in his hand and being trailed over Harry's chest.

“You're very tense, Potter. Am I making you nervous?”

Harry licked his dry lips. “I'm fine,” he answered. He flinched as the feather teased across his nipple, making it tighten immediately. Mmm. That was surprisingly nice. Malfoy did it to the other side, and Harry really wished that his hands weren't pinioned behind his back, because every stroke of the feather seemed connected directly to his groin, and he needed to.... A trickle of sweat ran down the small of his back. He had no idea whether Malfoy knew the effect he was having on Harry, and if so, whether he liked it, or whether he was about to laugh, and run to tell everyone that Potter got a stiffy from being tickled with a fucking _feather_... Oh Merlin, the feather which was trailing lazily down from Harry's chest to his navel, circling it and dipping down further, catching on the line of dark hair leading towards his―

Well. There was no longer any doubt about whether Malfoy knew. He was watching the path of the feather with an odd, intent look on his face, and Harry's erection was practically going to have his eye out in a minute. Malfoy looked up at Harry's face, with a weird mixture of triumph and apprehension, and Harry guessed that his own expression was not too different from Malfoy's: flushed, wide-eyed, and slightly scared.

Malfoy looked away and cleared his throat. “Time to make this more interesting.” He reached for the blindfold, raising an eyebrow at Harry as if to ask permission.

Harry's mind was racing. Was this really such a great idea? He knew he could Stupefy Malfoy in a heartbeat: he didn't need his hands or his eyes to do that. But embarrassing as it was to be standing here, oh-so-obviously turned on by everything that Malfoy did, at least while he could still see, there was the advantage of being able to check out Malfoy's reactions, and maybe guess what was going to happen next, as well.

“I think you'll enjoy it more this way. Might help you relax.” Malfoy let the mask dangle casually from one finger. “Of course, if it's too daring for you...?”

Harry made to grab the blindfold, forgetting his hands were tied. He grimaced in annoyance. “Do it, will you, Malfoy? But if you're thinking of any funny business, don't bother. I can have you flat on your back in about three seconds if I need to.”

Malfoy's eyes sparked with interest and then the blindfold slipped over Harry's face. Malfoy's fingers were trembling slightly as he secured it at the back. The fabric of the mask was soft and heavy against Harry's skin, and at first everything was very dark. Then, as Harry felt the feather trailing along his shoulder, teasing his collarbone before running over his biceps, his eyes fluttered closed and the most extraordinary images appeared. They were as inescapable as if they were being projected onto his eyelids; as clear and vivid as if they were happening right in front of him.

He cried out, startled, and opened his eyes behind the thick material. Malfoy jerked the feather from the path it was travelling along his arm. “Ticklish, Potter?”

“No, it― never mind.” He blinked heavily behind the blindfold. He must have been imagining it.

“We can stop, if it's all too much for you?” Malfoy sounded as if he were smirking.

Harry spoke as scornfully as he could manage. “Thanks, but I've been through Cruciatus, you know; I think I can handle a feather.”

The feather resumed its journey over Harry's skin. It swept across the soft skin of his underarm and up to his throat, where it flicked to and fro in lazy circles. Harry held his breath and let his eyes shut again-

 _Buggering hell!_ Harry opened his eyes again. The images dissolved. He closed them. _What in the name of Godric?_ This time, he stared in amazed fascination at the image of Malfoy on his knees. He had undone Harry's trousers and was sliding his pouty lips up and down the length of Harry's erection. He knew it wasn't happening in real life – he could still feel the feather, now dancing over his shoulder blades, for a start – but it was like his own personal erotic film, as deliciously explicit as he could ever wish for, playing right in front of his face. His whole body was getting uncomfortably warm, as the kneeling image of Malfoy peeked up at him with mock-innocence and then smirked, before licking a slow swipe over the head of his cock. Harry let out a deep and heartfelt moan.

“Merlin, you're really into this, Potter...” Malfoy sounded pleased, or at least smug, which was probably the closest he came to it. Harry opened his eyes again and the distracting images ceased.

“No, I– it's this _mask_ , Malfoy! It's like a dirty film or something. Every time I close my eyes I see...”

Malfoy sounded very intrigued. “You see what?”

A blush started at Harry's neck and spread over his chest. Why had he ever let Malfoy take his shirt off? “Kind of... filthy stuff.” He shut his eyes again. Inside the mask, he was bending Malfoy over the sofa and... Merlin. “Really filthy.” His voice cracked a little and he heard Malfoy laughing.

“You lucky dog! What kind of thing? Do share!”

Harry was opening and shutting his eyes in a kind of frenzy. Eyes shut. Malfoy stroking his own cock with long fingers and smiling devilishly.

Eyes open. Blackness.

Shut. Harry kissing along Malfoy's bare spine, Harry's arms wrapped around his smooth skin, and thrusting slowly into...

Eyes open. Blackness.

Shut. Malfoy lying on his back with his legs drawn up, knees apart, so Harry could see his...

Open. “Malfoy, did you bewitch this bloody mask to do this? Are you trying to send me round the twist?”

Malfoy laughed long and hard at that. “Me? No... no no no no no. It sounds like you're lucky enough to be wearing a Mask of Eros, Potter. Those things change hands for thousands of Galleons.”

Shut. Malfoy bent over Harry's lap, just like yesterday, except this time with his trousers and pants shoved down round his ankles, his arse muscled and firm under Harry's hands...

Eyes open. “So what does it do? It's Charmed to show you kinky pictures?”

“Is that what you think? No, it's cleverer than that. It shows you the most wonderfully realistic representations of your deepest sexual fantasies. As if it's actually happening right in front of your face.” Malfoy drew the feather along Harry's spine and down towards his backside. He lowered his voice and spoke softly into Harry's ear. “Wouldn't I dearly love to know what 'kinky pictures' you're seeing, Potter.”

Eyes shut. Malfoy on his knees again, this time his eyes watering and cheeks hollowed as Harry thrust deep into his mouth, jerking uncontrollably, his hands in Malfoy's hair-

Harry whimpered slightly. The pictures were outrageously vivid, with an incredible clarity, but he could only watch; he couldn't feel any of the sensations, and so his own cock pressed frustratingly unattended, trapped inside his trousers.

His voice came out in a sort of croak. “It's none of your business what I'm seeing.”

“You think not?” The feather was flicking to and fro over his chest, from nipple to nipple, making Harry want to arch his back and press towards its delicate touch. He kept his eyes firmly open. This was insane enough, without further visions of Malfoy as his personal sex-slave. “I've got a theory about this, you see, Potter. I think the Room of Requirement has decided that what you really need to relax is to try out a few of your fantasies. So what I'm still curious about is why it brought me here.”

Harry choked a bit. “I've told you – I didn't ask for you to come here, Malfoy. More like _you_ asked for _me_. You were here first, today, remember?”

“No, I think the Room knows you're too repressed to actually ask for what you need. It's pulling out all the stops for you. The Mask of Eros, for instance... there are only a few of them in existence, you know. Can you guess what they're designed for?”

“That's pretty obvious, surely? I'm not a complete innocent, you know.”

“Clearly not, if what you're seeing is as filthy as you claim.” Harry could hear his breath, hot and heavy in his ear. “They're an extremely exclusive aid to self-pleasure, Potter. Some would say they can give you the ultimate wanking experience; in fact most men would give their wand arm to have a go with one of these. And you're wearing one right now. Doesn't it make you want to try it out?”

Harry could feel sweat prickling on his upper lip. “I've tried it, Malfoy. It's― yeah, OK, it's pretty impressive.”

“No, I mean, test it out properly. Doesn't it make you want to touch yourself? Wouldn't you love to stroke your cock while watching whatever fantasy it shows you?” The memory of the scenes alone was causing Harry's hard-on to throb, and Malfoy's words were making it worse. He could just... close his eyes once more, and it would all start playing out in front of him again, as if it were really happening. And Malfoy would never know. That didn't change the fact that it just seemed wrong somehow.

The feather was brushing over the front of his trousers now; he was so sensitised that he could feel its touch through the straining, taut fabric. This was driving him absolutely fucking crazy.

“I can see you want to, Potter. Why not give in to it?” Malfoy's voice slid silkily into his ear. “Think how good it would feel. Merlin, I envy you the opportunity.”

“I think you're forgetting, I'd need my hands free for anything like that,” Harry said. He was aiming for sarcasm, but rather a lot of desperation leaked out. There was a pause and then the silk constraining Harry's hands fell away. At the same time Malfoy's fingers brushed against his swollen cock. Harry gasped and shut his eyes for a moment, and there were the debauched scenes playing out again against his eyelids. Fantasy-Harry was lying down and Fantasy-Malfoy was naked, crawling across a bed towards him, licking his lips as he started to unfasten Harry's trousers. The real Harry moaned and his hand reached to palm his erection, drawn to it like a Seeker to the Snitch. Malfoy made an appreciative sound close to his ear, and that was all it took. Harry hesitated only for a moment before ripping open his trousers and tugging his boxers down. His cock sprang free and he clasped it with a firm grip, moaning softly to himself.

For long moments he was aware of nothing but the delicious tug and slide of it, his hand moving just so over the length, heat spreading down his legs and curling into his toes. He watched as Fantasy-Malfoy used his hands and mouth, apparently devoted to giving Harry the utmost pleasure, eyes closed in blissful concentration. Harry suspected he was going to come in about half a minute, just from the stimulation of watching the scenes portrayed by the Mask. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about having his cock sucked while he was wanking, but he'd never been able to _watch_ it happening as he did so before. His brain felt like it was melting with delight, and he started to understand why Masks of Eros were so highly coveted.

It was easy to almost forget about the real Malfoy standing next to Harry. He couldn't see him, but he could feel the stir of his magic, and the tension of his body. Fantasy-Malfoy was stroking Harry's balls and Harry brought his free hand into play, to cup and squeeze himself in imitation. He was ridiculously fucking close already. He tried to slow things down, to stroke only around the base rather than the sensitive head, but fantasy-Malfoy was moaning and sucking like he'd never tasted anything so good, and it was getting really hard not to just ride the wave and go for what he suspected was going to be some kind of unforgettable orgasm. Part of Harry feared it would be shameful to come so soon, though, and another part wanted to enjoy this incredible rush for every second he could make it last. It would be a pity to rush what was shaping up to be the wank of a lifetime.

“Is it as good as it looks, Potter? Because if your face is anything to go by, I have got to have a go of this after you.”

Harry was lost for words, his mouth dry as fantasy-Malfoy took a break from sucking Harry to use his hands on his own body.

“Come on, Potter, what are you seeing in there? Share.”

Fantasy-Malfoy pinched his own nipples, his face screwed up with pleasure. Harry had never seen anything so provoking in his life.

“Is it the Weaselette perhaps? No, you don't seem to spend any time with her these days, do you?”

Harry's face burned as Malfoy pretended to think. “Our Miss Granger? Doesn't really seem your type...Perhaps one of the _male_ individuals of the Weasley line.”

Harry held his breath as fantasy-Malfoy, kneeling between Harry's legs, took his own erection in his fist and slowly thrust into it.

“No? I didn't think so. The Room didn't bring any of those people here, did it?”

Harry's chest and throat flushed pink. Malfoy danced the feather over them and he knew it hadn't gone unnoticed.

He leaned in close to Harry's ear and let his words caress against it in a breathy whisper. “Is it someone entirely different?”

Fantasy-Malfoy was writhing with pleasure. Harry's hand tightened around his own erection even as he tried to resist the urge to speed up. The sight of Malfoy losing himself like that was just so intoxicating, so good. He could see every detail, from each individual pale eyelash, to the sticky pre-come gathering at the head of his long prick.

“Is it...” Malfoy's words came insistently against his skin. “Is it who I think it is?”

Fantasy-Malfoy arched his back and came in pearly strands all over his fist and onto Harry's stomach. Harry groaned and felt the uncontrollable rush of his own orgasm. The words came out with the same irresistible force: “Yes, god, yes, it's you, Malfoy! Fuck, yes, it's you!”

Harry came so hard that the visions from the Mask were obliterated in a haze of white. As he spurted into his hand, he became light-headed and teetered on his feet. Malfoy leaned into Harry and held him steady as the jolts of pleasure faded into a mellow glow.

Harry took off the Mask with trembling fingers and sank onto the sofa. “Merlin...”

Malfoy sat down beside him, still twirling the feather. He looked as if he might purr. “You dirty boy, Potter.”

Harry felt too good to care. “Piss off, Malfoy.”

“Getting off to kinky thoughts about little old me, were you? I knew it.”

“Whatever.” He gave Malfoy a sideways look. “Like you weren't having a fine old time watching.”

“OK. So we're both deviants. What luck.”

“Bloody hell. That was seriously good.” Harry's heart was thumping more slowly now and he thought it would be perfect to just fall asleep right there on the sofa. “ I can honestly say I'd never have guessed _that_ was what I needed to relax.”

“You know what the best bit is?” Malfoy reached out and rested the very tip of the feather on Harry's cheek.

Harry shook his head.

“Well, I can't decide whether to use the mask myself straight away, or... there's all that stuff still out there to try.” Malfoy waved his hand in the direction of the hanging.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

Malfoy turned to Harry with a breath-taking smile. “And it's my turn to choose."

Malfoy was the other side of the curtain before Harry even had time to react. He shut his eyes and tried to get his head together a bit. He could hear Malfoy's shoes clicking across the floor, then pausing, presumably considering different objects. Harry swallowed heavily, the genial feeling of relaxation in his stomach turning to spiky anticipation. Malfoy might come back in with literally anything, and Harry would have to go along with it, or admit that he was completely out of his depth. He _was_ completely out of his depth. Who knew that Malfoy would be such a kinky bastard? Or that, he, Harry, would be prepared to go along with it...

 _Come on_ , he told himself. _You've more than gone along with it. You're bloody loving it._

He heard Malfoy returning, and fumbled to do up his trousers and arrange himself casually on the sofa.

“Found a couple of interesting things... ” Malfoy said, apparently off-hand. “I don't expect you'll have a clue what to do with any of them, though.”

“Yes I will!” Harry protested. “Here.” He grabbed something from Malfoy's hands before he'd had a chance to take in what it was. Oh. _Oh_.

He was holding a leather-handled object about a foot long. It was similar in shape to the paddle he had used on Malfoy the previous day, but made of quite different materials. On one side was a rectangular section of stiffish leather, which looked as if it would sting like hell, while the other side was covered with luxuriant, fluffy fur.

An image of himself stroking Malfoy's bare arse with the fur flashed into his mind, as clearly as if he was still wearing the Mask of Eros. Harry's cock gave a jerk of interest at the compelling idea.

 _Merlin._ Malfoy had turned him into a pervert and there was nothing he could do about it. No, even worse, he didn't want to do anything about it. He just wanted to stay in here with Malfoy for about a week, until they had found out what all the things were for, and what they all felt like.

He looked up at Malfoy, knowing his cheeks were pink. Malfoy was dangling something else from his long fingers.

“And this... I don't know exactly what it is, but I think I know what it _does_.” Malfoy's eyes were shining with interest.

Harry laughed out loud at the sight of Malfoy holding a pair of Muggle handcuffs. “They're what the Muggle police have, Malfoy. For restraining criminals.” Malfoy looked blank. “Like Aurors. When they catch someone, they put these round their wrists so they can't escape.”

“Yes, yes I knew _that_ , Potter.” said Malfoy quickly. “Some Muggle rubbish. I only brought them in because I thought _you'd_ want to see them.” He flung them down onto the floor.

Harry bent forwards and scooped them up neatly. “I _do_ want to see them.” The handcuffs were heavy metal ones and were satisfyingly solid. He weighed them in his hands, thinking fast and remembering the scene from yesterday. “This is what people who have been really bad have to wear,” Harry announced. “And _this_ ,” he picked up the leather paddle again as he spoke, “is what they get punished with.”

Harry slapped the paddle experimentally against his palm, and the noise resounded around the room. He was rewarded by the look on Malfoy's face: his eyebrows knotted together in concern, while his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked as if he'd been promised an enormous treat, but only if he could stick his hand in a Basilisk's nest to get it.

Harry stood up and took hold of Malfoy's arm, then manoeuvred the handcuffs into place around one of his wrists with a satisfying click. Malfoy's face lost some of its colour and Harry paused. “You do want this, right, Malfoy?”

Malfoy nodded, digging his teeth into his bottom lip.

Harry suppressed a smile at the strange excitement swelling in his chest. He held Malfoy's arms together behind his back, and clicked the other half of the cuffs into place, checking to see they were securely fastened around his narrow wrists.

“ _Why_ do you want it?” Harry asked. His voice came out rougher than he had intended, and for a moment he panicked, thinking Malfoy might push him away again and stalk off, but Malfoy just looked at him from underneath lowered eyelashes. “Because I've been... bad. Very bad.” He dropped his head and let his hair fall forwards, obscuring his face, but Harry could see the traces of a smirk.

Harry felt a surge of energy. He sat in the middle of the sofa and pointed to the floor in front of him. “Come here.” Malfoy stepped towards him. “You know what to do,” Harry said shortly.

Malfoy hesitated, looking at Harry through a lock of hair.

“Right now, Malfoy. I haven't got all day.” Harry arranged his features into a frown, even as ripples of pleasure ran down his spine.

Malfoy sank onto his knees and tried to position himself across Harry's lap. His cuffed hands made it awkward and Harry had to help him, pulling his slender hips upwards and adjusting his arms so he lay with his hands tucked into the small of his back. This was even better than yesterday. It felt so fucking good telling Malfoy what to do. Malfoy was already pink in the face, and Harry took hold of the paddle with a pulse of excitement.

The leather was cool against his perspiring hands. He pressed it gently to Malfoy's flushed cheek. Malfoy sighed and turned towards it. _Unbelievable._ Harry rubbed the paddle in small circles on Malfoy's face, then turned it over so he could feel the soft fur.

“This is for afterwards, Malfoy.”

Malfoy moaned at the sound of his voice. Harry took this as encouragement to go on speaking, but he chose his words carefully; there was no way he was going to fuck this up like yesterday.

“First I'm going to spank you, make you sore and sorry.”

Malfoy pressed his lips together and nodded, while Harry petted his face some more.

“Then I'm going to make you feel really good.”

Harry couldn't decide which part he was looking forward to most, and if the way Malfoy quivered in his lap was anything to go by, it sounded promising to him as well.

Harry wet his lips. “Get your pants and trousers down.”

Malfoy jerked in surprise and twisted his body to look at Harry.

“Do it, Malfoy. You want to feel this properly, don't you? Take them off.”

Malfoy gave Harry a long stare, then wriggled, reaching for his clothes, but he was held firmly by the handcuffs and he gave up, looking annoyed.

“Merlin, can't you even do that? Here, use my wand.” Harry placed the length of holly into Malfoy's palm. Malfoy fumbled to get a good grasp on it, then aimed (with hands that Harry noticed were unsteady), casting a Banishing Charm at first his trousers, then his underwear, to send them tumbling onto the floor

Harry swallowed hard. Malfoy lay in his lap, naked from the waist down. His shirt-tails were half-covering his bum, and Harry pushed them up and tucked them under his cuffed hands, leaving Malfoy's arse exposed to his view, two firmly rounded handfuls of smooth, creamy-coloured skin. Harry's fingers twitched with the urge to get hold of it, to let his fingers grab onto the muscled flesh and squeeze. He cleared his throat.

“I'll start you off gently again.” He marvelled at his own voice: to hear him talk you'd have thought he spanked half-naked boys all the time. He quickly stifled the giggle rising in his throat.

Harry put one tentative hand on Malfoy's bum. God, it felt smooth, and his muscles flexed under Harry's touch, revealing dimples on either side. Harry's eyes roamed all over Malfoy's skin, taking in the long slim legs, the strong calves and leanly muscled thighs, then returning to the amazing sight of his own hand cupping Malfoy's arse.

He took a deep breath and began to smack his hand across the surface of Malfoy's flesh, beginning with slaps that were light but brisk. Harry wanted to touch him everywhere at once. In addition to the sensation of warmth and the sounds of the skin meeting skin, there were now the rippling movements set off by each strike. Oh yes, spanking on the bare arse was definitely where it was at, Harry thought smugly, pleased he had been right all along. His hand moved to and fro in a delicious rhythm, working over the whole area of Malfoy's behind, so that it began to blush pinkly under his touch.

Malfoy squirmed in his lap and made small but fervent sounds. “Feel good?” Harry asked.

“Not bad,” Malfoy said indifferently.

Harry gave him a harder smack with the flat of his hand, and Malfoy gasped. “OK, pretty good,” he admitted. The outline of Harry's hand bloomed on Malfoy's skin and Harry gaped at it, fascinated. He gave another slap of about the same force, and watched in delight as the blood rushed to the surface. He could feel the heat rising off Malfoy's skin, and an answering heat stirred in Harry.

He stopped to adjust Malfoy slightly, holding him by the waist and raising his arse so it looked poised for Harry's ministrations. Malfoy wriggled against him, and that was when Harry felt it. He moved his leg to make quite certain, but yes, that was a sizeable erection poking into Harry's leg. Malfoy was hard – _very_ hard – from Harry spanking him. Harry let out a low groan. He had been aware of his own cock filling eagerly again, but the idea of Malfoy getting hard from Harry spanking him and ordering him about was almost too much.

He picked up the paddle and rested it lightly on the highest part of Malfoy's backside. Malfoy flinched away from the cold leather, but Harry held him still and tapped the paddle up and down across his bum in gentle pats.

“This is going to sting a bit,” he said, matter-of-factly, and to his amazement, Malfoy's cock twitched against his leg. Harry felt as if the world was turning on its head. When they had first come in here, they had sworn and bickered with one another. Now it seemed like things had shifted somehow; it was more like they were in this together, working for mutual pleasure.

Malfoy twisted round again and cast a sneer in Harry's direction. “Fucking get on with it, Potter!”

OK. Maybe not _that_ much had changed.

“Shut up, or I'll gag you,” Harry growled. He was pretty sure that was what some of those things in the other room were for. Perhaps he'd show Malfoy he wasn't so naive after all.

Malfoy stilled in his lap and pressed his lips together. Harry felt the sweet rush of power trickling through his veins again. “You don't get to decide what happens, this time,” he told Malfoy. “You just lie there and take what's coming to you.”

He tightened his grip on the paddle, and, remembering what he'd learned from yesterday, aimed at the roundest part of Malfoy's arse before driving the paddle down onto it with a beautifully gratifying thwack. Malfoy's legs kicked up in the air in surprise and a high-pitched sound came out of his mouth. Harry could see the shape of the paddle imprinted on his skin, and he touched it lightly with his fingers. It felt hot, and Malfoy moaned as Harry prodded gently around the edges where the flesh was starting to swell.

“Your skin _is_ delicate,” he said in wonder.

“Don't think I can't take this,” Malfoy spat in a breathy rush. “I can handle anything you can give me, Potter.”

Harry brought the paddle down sharply on the other cheek, leaving a matching stripe of red, and making Malfoy's mouth form a perfect little 'O' of surprise. “It's 'Harry', not 'Potter',” he said, rubbing the leather across the tender places. Malfoy sneered and pushed his arse back insolently.

Harry aimed for the middle of Malfoy's rear so that the paddle landed across his cleft, swiping both cheeks at once. “It's _Harry_ ,” he said. “Call me Harry.”

Malfoy looked round scornfully. “Getting soft, are we, Potter?'

Harry felt a surge of anger. He took hold of Malfoy's handcuffed wrists and pushed them down, digging into Malfoy's back, then paddled his arse with a meaty slap that left Malfoy juddering and gasping.

“My name is Harry. Say it, Malfoy.” The idea of Malfoy using the more intimate term was deeply appealing. He swung the paddle down again. Malfoy moaned and pushed against Harry's leg. “Say it.” Malfoy's arse quivered under a volley of slaps, as Harry raised his arm again and again.

“ _Merlin_ ,” Malfoy moaned, somewhere in between a bitter complaint and utter delight.

“Do you want me to stop?” Harry asked.

“ _No_.” Malfoy squealed as a particularly good smack hit the fleshiest part of his bum.

“Then say my name,” Harry said forcefully, twisting Malfoy's wrists painfully in the handcuffs.

“Ow! Stop it! No... carry on....” Malfoy screwed up his face in confusion.

“Like this?” Harry asked, smacking the leather with a steady rhythm on first one side, then the other.

“Yes!” Malfoy's teeth were digging in to his lip, and his cuffed hands were clenching and unclenching. “Yes... Merlin, yes... _Harry, yes_...do it just like that. ”

Harry's cock was achingly hard and he pushed up against Malfoy, desperate for some friction. He could feel Malfoy's own cock thrusting across his lap with every blow. God, Malfoy was leaking pre-come all over his leg: he could feel the hot stickiness seeping through his trousers. The thought made him want to carry on paddling Malfoy until his arm ached.

Malfoy's arse was turning scarlet; the skin was becoming almost raw in some places and Harry slowed his pace, trying to aim for less marked spots. Malfoy hissed and bucked under the blows, but his cries were blissful and he wore a look of wonder in between the grimaces he made with each impact.

“You're really sore now... have you had enough?” Harry raised the paddle enquiringly.

“Yes... no... just one more... ” Malfoy was trembling all over and Harry ran a reassuring hand over his back. He gave him another light slap.

“One more... ” Malfoy turned to Harry, his face glowing and a tear trickling down one cheek. “Please, Harry.” His voice sounded almost reverent.

Harry swung with deliberation, aiming the perfect strike right in the middle of Malfoy's fabulous, fiery, tender arse. The vibrations travelled along his arm and curled right down to his groin. He thought he had never heard anything sweeter than the hearty thwacking sound, and Malfoy's ragged cry of delight. He took a few moments, savouring the sight and sensation of Malfoy lying pliant and soft across his lap.

“That's it, now, Malfoy, you've had enough.” Malfoy whined a little, but without much conviction.

Harry turned the paddle over and let Malfoy feel the fur on his sweaty face. “It'll just break the skin if I carry on.” It felt bizarrely intimate, caring for Malfoy like this, watching as he smiled at the downy-soft fur stroking his cheek.

Malfoy twisted about until he was looking up at Harry, his face unguarded. His pupils were wide, and he met Harry's gaze from under lashes that held traces of tears.

Harry patted his face with the fur again, then moved it to sweep across the vivid stripes marking his bottom. It looked as if it would be painful for a while, and Harry shifted uncomfortably on the sofa; he wasn't entirely happy with the idea of hurting another human being, even if they appeared to have had the time of their life while he was doing it.

“It looks bad, Draco... are you OK?”

Malfoy's eyes were closed in sheer satisfaction and his face wore a dreamy expression as Harry ran the fur over his stinging skin again and again. “Oh, yes... yes, yes, I'm fine.” He pushed his arse up as high as it could go and angled it from side to side, attempting to get more stimulation from the velvety, yielding fur.

Harry brushed the paddle up and down the cleft of Malfoy's arse, then swept it around the tender crease between legs and cheeks. Malfoy wriggled and pushed against Harry's leg, at first lightly, then determinedly. The room seemed quiet after the thwacks and groans of the spanking, and Harry could hear the uneven rhythm of Malfoy's breathing and the noise his cock made rubbing against Harry's trousers. Malfoy thrust more insistently and a drop of pre-come fell onto the floor. He groaned in frustration and strained against the handcuffs which still held his wrists in place.

“Do you want... shall I...?” Harry had no idea how to ask somebody if they wanted you to wank them off. Somebody who you had scarcely exchanged a friendly word with up until yesterday. Draco moaned and thrust again, and Harry took his courage in his hands. Watching Draco's face carefully, he reached around and took hold of his cock in the circle of his thumb and fingers. It was slippery under Harry's grasp, and the skin felt tightly stretched and pulsing with warmth. Harry wished he had a better view, but it felt bloody fantastic. Draco's eyelids fluttered and he threw his head back, making the most incredible sounds and pushing himself needily into Harry's fist. Two more strokes... three... and he was coming in hot bursts over Harry's fingers.

Harry thought he might go mad if he didn't come again right now, this minute. He moved Malfoy a bit further away, towards his knees, then yanked his own cock out and ran his sticky, wet fingers around the swollen head. _Merlin_. He was close already; it was building from his feet up, making his toes curl. His eyes ran over Malfoy's limp, relaxed body, his blond hair damp with sweat and his backside still a beautiful shade of pink. _Fuck_. He was going to come all over Malfoy's arse, could feel his balls tightening in anticipation―

“Want help with that?” Malfoy asked, scrambling off his lap suddenly and kneeling on the floor between Harry's legs. Harry was far beyond words, but he nodded and gestured in what he hoped was enthusiastic agreement. He desperately tried to hold back, as Malfoy leant forwards and took him into his wet, waiting mouth, wanting to slow down and properly appreciate the most heavenly destination his cock had ever known, but as Malfoy tongued and sucked enthusiastically, he felt the first intense, sweet throb of pleasure, and came with a shout down Malfoy's throat.

Harry, panting, leaned forwards onto Malfoy and draped his arms over Malfoy's shoulders to support his suddenly limp body. Malfoy smelt really good: fresh, like grass, with a tang of salt in there too. Harry smiled into Malfoy's hair.

“Wow. That was, er, well, that was pretty amazing.”

They sat quietly together for a minute, Harry nuzzling the side of Malfoy's head. He felt as if they had set out across unknown waters without a map, and yet landed safely on the other shore.

Then Malfoy pulled away. “Can you release these stupid Muggle things now, Potter? My arms are going numb.”

Harry sat up with a start. “Oh! Sorry, of course, yes.” He undid the handcuffs and Malfoy rubbed his wrists, looking cross, then gathered his pants and trousers up and turned his back to Harry as he put them on. His arse was still looking rosy and red in places, like a ripe peach, and Harry noticed him wince a little as he pulled on his tight-fitting briefs.

“Malfoy... Draco?”

“Mmm?” Malfoy didn't look up from buttoning his trousers. His hair was still all over the place, but his face had lost the softness and returned to its usual haughty expression.

“This was... I really liked it. Is this... I mean, will we do this again?” Harry looked at Malfoy with a hopeful expression, but his fingers moved across his lap in nervous circles.

“Will we...?” Malfoy glanced at Harry in between smoothing down his robes. “Who knows? This was just mucking about, Potter.”

Harry's face fell. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

Malfoy laughed, but it sounded a bit forced. “I was bored, you were horny. These things happen. Right?”

Harry sat up straight and abruptly realised he was still exposed, his trousers unfastened. He tugged at his clothes, blinking quickly.

“Right... I just thought... ah, whatever. I just thought you liked it.”

“Of course I liked it.” Malfoy lifted his chin. “I got off, didn't I? What's not to like?” He looked at Harry closely for a minute, then swallowed. “Time to be going. Thanks, Potter. This was fun.”

“Yeah, thanks, Draco... I mean, Malfoy.” Malfoy was already halfway through the curtain, and Harry's voice cracked a little as he spoke. He stared at his hands, while Malfoy's shoes clicked across the floor, but after a few seconds, instead of the door slamming, Harry heard Malfoy returning.

Malfoy pulled aside the fabric and stood in the opening, head on one side, smirk firmly in place. “Are all you Gryffindors as soft as a bunch of flobberworms, by the way?”

He walked towards the sofa and leant close to Harry's ear. “Maybe meet you here tomorrow?” he asked carelessly, and then his lips brushed against Harry's cheek, the merest press of his mouth, so sweet, so fleeting that Harry wondered if he had imagined it. Malfoy's feet clicked away again across the floor while Harry sat slightly stunned.

When he had finally gathered his thoughts and made himself presentable enough to leave, he smiled to see that Malfoy had left the door to the room swinging ajar instead of shutting it. In his optimistic frame of mind, this spoke of future possibilities, of all the unknown pleasures waiting for Harry to discover them. As omens went, it was a good one, and seeing that the rain had cleared, Harry whistled to himself as he ran down the staircase, thinking that he might just go for that fly after all.


End file.
